


Secrets

by helloshepard



Series: helloshepard's TRANSFORMERS fics (2020- ? ) [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Secret Courtship, Secret Solenoid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloshepard/pseuds/helloshepard
Summary: Written for @RagingPika on Twitter. Prompt: Soundwave or Shockwave courting the other in the middle of the Nemesis' command deck, and bystanders unable to unsee it happening.
Relationships: Shockwave/Soundwave
Series: helloshepard's TRANSFORMERS fics (2020- ? ) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789297
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132
Collections: Secret Solenoid '19-'20





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Yesterday, Vehicon 89-11 had witnessed something…odd.

To be fair, 89 had little context for _odd—_ 89 had been activated approximately a hundred sixty five cycles ago; hardly a moment in the scope of a Cybertronian’s lifecycle. What little 89 knew of the galaxy had been viewed through the view panes of a warship, or from falling from the ship itself.

But yesterday, 89 had seen something that was neither _wrong_ nor _usual._ It was just…odd.

Soundwave, Communications Officer and Second Lieutenant, had left a datapad on the bridge. 89 had only noticed this because it had been the datapad 89 had fetched for him earlier in the work cycle; slightly bent and cracked on one corner, it had been the only spare data pad available at the time.

89 knew Soundwave had downloaded a file onto it; something classified and above 89’s security clearance. But that wasn’t surprising—not much of the data contained in the massive warship was available to 89, or to the others. Until now, 89 had never been concerned with the data; surely it was mostly boring, logistical data. Certainly nothing 89 was interested in—even if access was granted to the Vehicons as a whole, it would be…boring.

But now 89 was curious. What was on the datapad? Something--so _useless,_ that Soundwave felt comfortable leaving it out? Or…something else?

89 inched closer to the datapad. It lingered tantalizingly at the edge of the console Soundwave had been working at just a moment before.

89 had nearly reached it—the datapad was half a body length away, when Shockwave approached. As though the Vehicon’s hand had been burned, 89 drew back, startled, though he had not yet done anything wrong.

“Calibrate the external magnification systems,” Shockwave said. “The output has been declining steadily over the last microcycle.”

“Sir.”

His disappointment felt palpable, as though it were a blaster wound to the chest. 89 drew back and switched on a nearby console. The ship’s data collection systems had been unreliable since the Nemesis had been so suddenly and violently dragged back to life. It was tedious, boring work; 89 could easily do it with one hand offline. It allowed 89 the freedom to attempt to sneak a glance over at the datapad, which now rested in Shockwave’s grip.

Fresh disappointment rushed over his frame, uncomfortable and prickly. It looked to be nothing more than a debugging packet for some technology or other. Shockwave seemed pleased, though, tucking the datapad into a subspace pocket before 89 could get a better look.

It was still odd. _Weird._ Had Soundwave left it _on purpose—_ for Shockwave? Why not simply take it to him—or have a Vehicon courier it to him?

* * *

Meanwhile, Shockwave took a single, long look at the datapad. It was the data he had requested earlier in the work cycle; his cloning templates had been designed on a set of consoles he had believed to be woefully outdated. Yet, it seemed they had ported to the warship’s far more modern consoles with few problems. What minor technical issues remained were easily remedied—if needed, Shockwave could have gone on without rectifying them, but time was not of the essence, despite what Megatron believed.

Soundwave had provided the fix—simple and elegant, so similar to Soundwave himself. Except, Soundwave had embedded a message into the code. Likely, it was a cipher Soundwave had developed himself. It would take some time to decode it—far longer than it would take to implement the fix.

Shockwave had time.

* * *

One cycle later, Shockwave left the datapad on the console.

And 89 noticed it. The event had lingered in the back of 89’s processor for the last cycle. It had not been something interesting enough to tell the rest of the cohort—their nights were filled with streamed earth movies and what little Cybertronian films remained. It was something to think about, in the tedium of endlessly calibrating sensors and battling the warship’s deceptive code.

And this time, 89 got to look at it.

This datapad was a newer one, likely part of a pack that had just been recently opened. It even still had its manufacture tag on the back, beneath the purple Decepticon insignia. There were no cracks, nothing to indicate it had been used for anything prior to this moment.

Except it had.

The bridge was nearly deserted—89 had been scheduled to the off-shift earlier in the cycle. Yesterday, 89 had forgotten to debug a particular line of code, resulting in the warship emptying its waste tanks off schedule. There was another Vehicon, 63, at the far edge of the bridge, and an Eradicon standing at the center console, typing idly as the minutes slipped into hours.

Much to 89’s dismay, the datapad’s contents were much like the first. 89 recognized it as yet another debugging program, though this one contained a minor update patch for the warship’s navigational systems.

89 scrolled through the datapad, scanning the lines and lines of code.

It was only when he felt an itch at the back of his neck, a set of optics watching him, that he turned.

His spark seized, fuel pump sputtering. It wasn’t as though he had done anything _wrong,_ 89 knew, it was commonly accepted amongst the Vehicons that data pads left around the bridge were fair game for snooping. Soundwave certainly did his own fair share of looking at datapads that weren’t his. Except they all were. Sort of. It was his job, after all.

“Soundwave!”

89 yanked the offending hand away from the datapad. As per usual, Soundwave spoke no words. It seemed as though he had not heard 89 at all, moving to pick up the datapad with his thin, spindly fingers that 89 sometimes imagined wrapping around his throat in the awkward interim between wakefulness and rest.

It was a dream the Vehicons had often. Their experiences were more similar than not, and it wasn’t uncommon for their dreams to be the same. 89 hadn’t thought much of it until this particular moment, when the subject of one of his nightmares stood before him.

Without a word—not that 89 had _expected_ Soundwave to say anything; that was something even his dreams had never dared explore—Soundwave turned and walked away.

* * *

Shockwave had taken the initiative to upgrade their method of communication. Of course, they could always play their games via internal comms or data packets, but this was far more…interesting.

Soundwave was loathe to categorize it as _fun._ Very few things in his life had ever been fun, and he was not sure whether exchanging barely-coded flirtations on datapads left for the whole bridge to see qualified as _fun._

He had to admit: there _was_ something thrilling about taking their courtship in this direction, teasing it under the noses of the troops and their leader. Starscream had already realized what was going on—when he wasn’t an emotional, strung-out wreck, the Decepticon’s first lieutenant had an optic for detail that rivaled Soundwave’s. Starscream had simply scoffed, looking for all the world like he had narrowly avoided catching cybonic plague.

Starscream had not demanded they _stop,_ though—not that such an order would have been heeded. Soundwave took the initiative to send Starscream one of their more risqué datapads, recording his flustered, stuttering reaction as Megatron demanded to know why he was incapable of taking care of such a trivial thing as a fuel consumption log.

Shockwave had not enjoyed the footage nearly as much as Soundwave did, though Soundwave had been privileged to record the softest of laughs emanating from his vocalizer.

Soundwave looked up. A Vehicon, plating practically quivering with fear, held out a data pad. A quick glance told him it was a record of emissions from the last week. And of course, Shockwave’s official sigil was visible.

Behind his visor, Soundwave smiled.


End file.
